The Naja Haje Abyss©
By Priscilla McDaniel
Wind and rain poured furiously from the cloud as if it wanted to keep me from going—nevertheless, I had a mission to fulfill and all the tears in the sky could not hold me back. I floated into the alley of Trevor Bartlett’s Bistro. In the blink of an eye, I changed from my long, black and white, chiffon gown into a short, black and white, linen dress, one that would blend with the year 2020. I blinked again for a white broad-brim hat and black high heel shoes.
I knew what Mr. Bartlett’s reaction would be when he saw me sitting at a table in the sun. Though it was not my intent to do so, I stood out in a crowd. Trevor Bartlett was the reason I had come to Greentree, California on planet earth.
“May I bring you a cup of latte?” Mr. Bartlett asked studying me with a quizzical look. “You’re not rom around here, are you?”
I knew his thoughts and looked up at him with bold blue eyes, and moved a dark curl from my forehead. “Would you mind bringing me a glass of water with that latte, as soon as possible please?”
“Yes certainly,” he replied, staring at me, standing still.
“Well, Mr. Bartlett, am I asking too much?”
“No, no, not at all,” he stammered, embarrassed by his focused gaze.
When he returned with my coffee and water he asked, “How do you know my name?”
Suddenly he noticed the palm trees that swayed gently overhead as the breeze addressed me. I took a deep breath, and spoke softly, almost inaudibly, “Anon, anon.” Then I paused and looked up at him, “Thank you for the water and latte.”
“What exactly does anon mean? That’s what you said, I’m sure I heard you.”
“Perhaps it was the wind you heard.” I feigned ignorance and then dismissed him.
“How did you know my name?” he said a second time.
I did not answer for trying to hear the voice in the breeze. “Take him now, Windoline! Take him now! You have no more time.”
Without another word I grabbed the tall, slender Trevor by the hand. We sailed into the air side by side, as I magically changed back into my traveling gown.
“What are you doing? Put me down.” His voice was tense and angry—outraged. “Where do you think you’re taking me?”